Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(3)

Ernie cleared his throat, looking beyond uncomfortable. “I don’t think Derek Rutledge is twice as old as his husband.”

Caldwell sneered. It was a cruel expression, one that distorted his handsome features into something almost monstrous. Miles stared at the man in fascination. He’d seen a lot of handsome men, but he’d rarely seen men with truly interesting faces. This man had one. Caldwell had a sharp jawline and an equally sharp gaze, his dark-brown hair the only remotely soft thing about him. He had some early gray hair around the temples, but the man couldn’t be much older than thirty, his tanned skin smooth and healthy, his body clearly fit under that bespoke suit.

“Doesn’t matter,” Caldwell said. “It’s still pathetic to see a middle-aged man panting after a gold-digger more than a decade his junior.”

Miles frowned. He didn’t know the Rutledge couple at all, but from what he’d heard of Alexander, it was a love match.

“Well,” Ernie said, grimacing. “I agree that it does look unnatural. Joseph Rutledge must be rolling in his grave. He would have never allowed his only son to marry a man.”

Miles glowered at Ernie, his annoyance rising. He’d been feeling sorry for the guy for having to deal with such a difficult boss, but the guy’s homophobic views were quickly destroying any sympathy he might have felt for him.

He looked at Caldwell, hoping that he would tell his employee how wrong his attitude was, but the man looked unbothered, his gaze on his phone.

“I want you to double check the documents Rutledge provided us,” Caldwell said, putting his phone into the pocket of his gray trousers. He had great hands, with strong, beautifully shaped fingers.

Miles cocked his head to the side, intrigued that he even noticed such a thing.

At times like this, he questioned if he really was asexual. To be fair, it wasn’t something he knew for sure. His attempts at sex and relationships had just been something of a disaster. He’d had sex with a total of two girls—or tried to—and both times he couldn’t get hard enough to actually do the deed, resorting to his fingers. After those failures with girls, Miles had even started thinking that he might be gay, especially since some of his older brothers weren’t completely straight—maybe people were right that homosexuality was genetic. But his only attempt at gay sex had been even more disastrous than his attempts at straight sex: Miles felt like he was doing an unpleasant, nerve-wracking chore. In the end, he had ended up clumsily sucking the guy off and then lying to him that he’d already come when the guy saw that Miles wasn’t hard.

Since then, Miles had kind of… given up on sex. Sometimes he thought he felt very faint attraction to a guy or a girl, but he never acted on it anymore, content with his right hand. The fact that he wanked regularly confirmed that physically his equipment was fine, which only confused him more. If he really were asexual, shouldn’t he have no sex drive at all? Miles did want sex—in theory—but as soon as he was in a bedroom with a real person, the last thing he wanted was to get naked with them and touch their genitals. All he had felt was discomfort. He had no idea what that made him. According to the all-knowing Google, some asexual people didn’t wank; some did. Some couldn’t feel attraction at all; some could, in the right circumstances. In short, his sexuality was still a mystery, and Google wasn’t offering any answers.

That was partly why Miles had decided to travel this summer. If he was going to figure himself out, it was better to do it away from the curious eyes of his nosy family.

Not that being asexual would be the end of the world. It wouldn’t be. He had a great family, no matter how overbearing they were. He wasn’t worried that anyone in his family would find it weird if he told them that he was asexual and possibly aromantic.

That said, although his possible asexuality didn’t stress him out, Miles couldn’t deny that sometimes he wanted to feel… more like other people, to feel stuff other guys his age felt when they saw a beautiful woman or a fit man.

So now, the fact that he found himself staring at Caldwell’s hands and sharp jawline was more than a little intriguing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d checked anyone out.

“…Yes, Mr. Caldwell,” Ernie was muttering, making notes on his tablet as his boss fired order after order. The guy looked more stressed by the moment, a look of misery in his eyes as he tried to type everything down. Miles felt a pang of pity again before telling himself not to be soft. The bloke was a homophobic ass. Having such a difficult boss must be karma or something.

Finally, the men left, and Miles was alone on the terrace again. Yawning, he closed his eyes, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute. Although he had taken a nap in the car, he was still exhausted after his flight and his body was sure the hour was a lot later than it was.

He must have dozed off.

He only vaguely remembered a maid shaking him awake and showing him the way to his room.

After undressing, Miles stretched out on the cool sheets, and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

He dreamed of blue eyes glinting with cold fire.





Chapter 2


Next morning, a very cheerful maid led Miles to the “small breakfast room” where the Rutledge family was apparently having breakfast.

Miles came to a halt in the doorway, taking in the domestic scene.

A stern-looking dark-haired man was seated at the head of the table, with a very handsome blond guy to his left. The Rutledge couple, presumably. The blond guy didn’t look like a gold-digger at all. There was something very soft and affectionate in his eyes as he talked to his husband.